Vignettes 2
by pet-munchkin
Summary: A night's foolish act and everything seems to have changed... - The companion series to "Vignettes" in Remus' POV; nine chapters in total, complete; set in OotP with a slightly different take on the R/T-relationship, thus a bit non-canon to the story
1. Anger

**Pairing:** R/T (I feel as if I shouldn't even tell you that anymore, it's too obvious)

**Rating:** T

**Warnings:** Reference to sexual content, probably swearing once or twice... (oh, and beware of the grammar mistakes...)

**Length:** about 550 words, all chapters in total: about 4,600 words

**Disclaimer:** I'm tired of writing that it's all JKR's. Thus I say: HP IS MINE! Well, it's a lie, clearly... but it feels so good! ;-)

**Summary:** _He wondered momentarily how he could have been this stupid. How he could have got drunk to this extend at all, and why ever he, of all people, would drag a young witch into his room and ruin their colleague- and their friendship all in one night's foolish act..._ - The companion piece to _Vignettes_ in Remus' POV. I'd recommend you to read _Vignettes_ first if you haven't already for it will give you the basis for this one here (in my opinion). Otherwise, same goes for _Vignettes #2_ as did for _Vignettes_: takes place in OotP, different take on the R/T-relationship, bit un-canon to the story. The style, however, is different since there's almost only passive action going on this time. (Just so you know...)

**Beta:** none (but one day, I'll get myself one, I promise!)

**About the titles:** Just a little thing I'd like to explain. The chapters of _Vignettes #2_ always have two titles, a first one and a second one (however, there's no former title or anything). The first one is always the same as in _Vignettes_ and marked with a _#2_. The second one is like the actual title of the chapter; the one that could stand there for itself. Mind you that both titles, however, play a significant role in the chapters. (You'll see...)

**Author's Notes:** So finally, I'm back from egypt and getting my fanfiction site and stories updated. Therefore, I hereby present you the first chapter of _Vignettes #2_. I really hope the waiting was worth it (not that you had to wait too long, right?). As I wrote in the summary, the style is different from the one in _Vignettes_ but I hope you'll still like it this way. And now, no more waiting: I wish you fun with reading...

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**1. Consequences #2 – Anger**

He sat on the edge of his bed, his head aching and his vision slightly blurry. His eyes marked a spot opposite him on the wall. There was nothing in particular to see but he had to look as far away as possible from the bed. From what lay on it, actually, right behind him.

He had woken up this morning and found himself loosely covered by the thin, patched blanket that came with the creaking bed at the highest of rooms at Grimmauld's – his room. It had taken him some seconds to become aware of who he was and where he was and it had taken him some minutes at least to recall everything, or as much as possible, that he had been doing the night before. But as soon as he had felt the warm body that had been lying pressed against him stir, he had realised with a shock that he had done something he would have thought Sirius to be probably capable of, if he wouldn't be a fugitive on the run, but certainly not himself.

He forced his eyes to look over his shoulder and back at the petite, almost fragile looking form of Nymphadora Tonks, asleep in his bed and covered by his blanket that he had rearranged around her after he had silently freed himself from the slight hug she must've had pulled him in at some point in the night. Her chest was rising and falling evenly, her pink spiky hair tousled and her mouth just a bit open. It was a scenario so ironic, so shocking that he almost felt like laughing about it.

He wondered momentarily how he could have been this stupid. How he could have got drunk to this extend at all, and why ever he, of all people, would drag a young witch into his room and ruin their colleague- and their friendship all in one night's foolish act. And then he wondered if it had been him that had dragged her here or if it had been the other way around. He couldn't remember; all he knew was that she would wake up soon and clutch her head which would be hurting as much as his did now. Her eyes would set on him and she would eventually realise where she was and what they had done. Whatever reaction she would show – surprise, shock, resentment, denial or simply retreat – their friendship wouldn't be the same anymore. _They_ wouldn't be the same. And it was unavoidable…

She stirred and he removed his eyes from her, knowing that she was about to wake up and he wouldn't be able to get himself to look at her any longer while she was naked in his bed.

"Remus" she murmured slowly and drowsy and he knew from the rustles that she had sat up, if not a bit sloppily. It was this moment that he felt anger at himself rise higher and higher in his stomach until it seemed to boil in his very heart and soul. And before he could stop himself, he had decided that resentment and retreat were his own choice of reaction and with a simple word that he knew would leave her hurt and confused, he gave way for his anger:

"Go."

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First chapter - so what is your choice of reaction? Are you surprised? Shocked? Confused? Content, maybe? Whatever it is, let me know immediately! (That means review, please.)

So this starts all over again. I feel like I'm posting _Vignettes_ for a second time. Well, actually, I am: same story, same pairing, same actions - just a different point of view. I really love playing with points of views, that's why I always tend to write two fics with the same story but different points of views. I wonder if people like to read them as much as I like to write them...

I'm sorry for accusing Sirius of being capable of what Remus and Tonks did in this fic. This is an apology for everyone out there who feels like I did him wrong with this (I do feel bad about it). I believe this is the only ever chapter that anyone else than Remus or Tonks was mentioned in (by name). Interesting, huh? (But I did this on purpose for I wanted this fic to be about these two and no one else. Well actually, I do that with almost all of my R/T fics, so...).

Uploading, I guess, will be done with a two-(or three-) days-break between the chapters again. So another two and a half weeks until this is finished, huh? (And didn't I say it's like _Vignettes_ all over again?)

Let's all dance on a full moon night in the full moon's light; see ya und tschüß


	2. Strangers

**Length:** about 390 words

**Disclaimer:** HP belongs to Jord. Jord, you should know, is a chronic liar. If she says that HP belongs to her, she actually means it belongs to JKR. Therefore, please forgive Jord for lying. It's more some sort of sickness than malice, really...

**Author's Notes: **New day, new chapter. And that's all I've got to say, so for the next half minute (it won't take much longer): have fun reading...

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**2. Hurt #2 – Strangers**

He watched her. Whenever, wherever he could. He did this secretly, of course, and he supposed that she didn't notice and probably thought that he didn't mind at all about her. Yet, he knew by heart that that was wrong. In fact, he cared so much that it hurt and this nasty feeling of concern gnawed at his insides slowly, achingly, day and night and even through the last full moons it had accompanied him.

He knew she was in pain as well. Knew it because there was nothing, really, that she could ever hide from him. As if he could read her like a book – one simple, tiny glance at her and there was no doubt that she felt just as hurt as him, surely even more since he had rejected her with so unbelievingly cruel certainty. And if she _felt_ miserable, she was and she showed. Maybe it was not that visible to others but he saw it and he was perfectly aware that it was his fault, entirely. He was the one to blame.

Being honest, he had hoped that it would be easier to rebuild their friendship. He had been naïve enough to hope that he could make up for his behaviour. But talking seemed difficult to manage, eye contact was hard to hold. So neither did he talk to her nor look at her, at least not directly…

And as weeks passed by and worry boiled secretly beneath his chest, he began to wonder if there even _was_ a way out of their situation or if his naivety had brought him as far as to believe in fairytales. Sadly, he couldn't find it within him to trust that there was a way.

Because he had hurt her.

Because she had hurt him in return.

Because she had called him "Lupin" one morning and he had winced and showed her his weakness, showed her that he cared. Sure, it had been revenge out of desperation and he supposed that he had deserved it. But he had also started to fear what would become of them if they chose to continue their way of hurting each other. He feared that, if he wasn't careful to look out, one day, quite certainly, they would take one too much step too far… and become strangers.

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Attention: Wouldn't it be _strange_ to read but not review? (And am I not the funniest woman ever? -.-)

I bid you farewell; bye bye und tschüß


	3. Options

**Length:** about 510 words

**Disclaimer:** "Verdammt, HP gehört JKR und nicht mir!" - Translation: "Shite, HP belongs to JKR and not me!" - With this I do not only cover the disclaimer part but I can also teach you to talk (and curse) in German. Any questions? ;-)

**Author's Notes: **I somehow like the title and therefore the topic of this chapter. As always, have fun with reading...

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**3. Taste #2 – Options**

Christmas. Hateful. Because everything on Christmas seemed to be happy and cheery and joyful and merry… It was not that he held anything against the people that liked Christmas, not really. It was the time of year when they could be with the ones they loved and that was nothing despiteful, not at all. But whenever Christmas came around he began to wonder and think about the ones he loved. It seemed that there were none and if and when there were, then he always tended to push them as far away as possible, so that in the end everything was back to normal. So that in the end he was alone again.

This Christmas was nothing different. Or at least, he had thought that until on Christmas Eve she came hurrying towards him, her face set and determined. He feared for a moment that she would slap him across his face since the entrance hall was empty and it might be the perfect occasion for her and it was not as if he didn't deserve it, of course. Yet, it made him consider his options quite anxiously: fight or flight?

It was a second before he realised that he was standing under the mistletoe that Molly had hung up earlier. So before he could even be surprised at all, she had, instead of leaving the shape of her hand on his cheek, left the taste of her lips on his. Confusingly, it was everything he could have wished for, even more than the reestablishment of their friendship. Because in any case, they weren't friends anymore and so there was nothing friendly at all in his longing when he pulled her into a second kiss.

And he wanted more.

He wanted to pin her against the wall, right here, right now, and take her there. But he knew very well that that was not an option and even if it was, he wouldn't get to choose it. It was not an option for him to choose to love this woman. So quite certainly, when she whispered his name against his lips tentatively and so full of love, his conscience jumped back into action, bringing a whole sack of guilt with it. He retreated and all he could say was "Don't", although he really meant a thousand things: _Don't kiss me. Don't love me. Don't make me love you in return. Please don't hate me for this…_

He knew from the look on her face that she understood, even though she seemed determined not to believe. But by the time she told him that she couldn't stop, he had already decided and took the option he would always take in these situations. The option that he strongly believed was the only one he could ever take because he shouldn't fool himself any longer and think that there was any other option left for him. The option that came with the cruellest of feelings in ones stomach and the filthiest of tastes in ones mouth. The option that quite simply said:_ flight_.

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Remus had options. And he chose (although admitted, I don't think he made the best decision). However, I'm sorry to have to tell you that you are not granted the luxury of options. You _must_ leave a comment - now! (I'm trying mind control here; I wonder if it works via internet...?)

Now I'd like to give you a little explanation of the topic and how I came to choose it (see, I _had _options when writing), but for that first some catching up on human biology is required (don't moan, it won't be much). There is a reaction of the human body (triggered by the sympathetic nervous system) called the fight-or-flight-response. I gave a talk once in school about both the SNS and the PSNS (parasympathetic nervous system) and while thinking about the content of this chapter, I remembered this all of a sudden and thought that it would match quite well to the story. As a result, I developed the topic of fight-or-flight and thus the general topic of Remus having the choice between options (quite contrary ones, I must say). And in the end, I had my chapter done and was even proud of myself for it seems that I do have the ability of being attentive at times and actually reproduce the information that was so cruelly shoved into my poor overworked brain at school. Not that that happenes very often...

Therefore: Never give up the fight (must be Tonks' motto and therefore it's mine, too); bye bye und tschüß


	4. Reason

**Length:** about 390 words (short, so short!)

**Disclaimer:** Poor JKR. She has a lot to to endure with us many fanfiction writers violating her wonderful characters. Let's all shed a tear for her - and then write some more!

**Author's Notes:** Not too happy with this chapter but not too displeased as well. You know our motto: Have fun reading...

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**4. Want And Need #2 – Reason**

He needed her. Now _need_, that wasn't really what worried him that much. Even if he thought he needed her, he could always still go without needing anyone. Because he hadn't needed anyone for a long time. He was aware that people around him didn't agree with that and probably, he had lied to himself all the time anyway. But he got used to it, thus it was all right, he supposed. And even if it wasn't, that was just the way things were and he accepted them, as always.

What really worried him, however, was that he _wanted_ her. Yes, he _wanted_ her, more than anyone else he had ever wanted. The beautiful sight of her, the ever-changing hair of hers, the scrunching up of her little nose, the twinkle in her eyes, the reds of her lips… He wanted all of that – and more – and it was painfully devouring him little by little. Devouring him because he was very much aware of the fact that he could never,_ ever_, have all of these things and that eventually, as soon as he would hurt her again, she would go and outright give them to someone else instead. And that someone clearly wouldn't reject because rejecting her was foolish. Well… he was a fool, he supposed.

And quite certainly, one night she came to tell him that she loved him and needed him and he was aware that very possibly, this could be the last chance for him – and her. However, as much as he struggled with himself, he couldn't help but hold on to reason because reason was what had kept him alive for so long…

Her stare bore into his eyes and then shifted to the floor and all he could think of was not to answer at all, because there was nothing reasonable that he could answer, not really. It was either hurt her for now and give her a chance for the future, or make her happy now and take every chance she could have in the future away from her. Option one _was _right; option two, however, _felt _right. Nevertheless, he didn't want to decide since both options eventually were wrong, therefore in the end, he submitted to his reason and said nothing at all.

Well, he should have known better. Reason, as it was, just simply _sucked_.

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Be reasonable: Review! (Eh... please?)

Note: I'm very aware of the fact that the word _sucked_ is more American than British. I just wasn't able to think of any other word than this. I hate not being English, really. Just makes everything so difficult. So, suggestions, anyone? Please? (Or can it stay that way? Because I'm not sure...)

Do you know the feeling when you read other fics and think: "Merlin, these are good! Why ever can't my own fics be this good?" - There's a reason why envy is one of the seven deadly sins. And yes, it still gets me anyway... -sigh-

Unbelievably jealous Jord sings a sorrowful song for you (why not choose which one?); bye bye und tschüß


	5. Coward

**Length:** about 535 words (At least you cannot say it lacks shortness, right?)

**Disclaimer:** JKR created HP. I read it. I loved it. I decided to play with it. Really, best decision of my life. (And if you like the stories, I suppose you pretty much agree.)

**Author's Notes:** So this chapter's title is_ Coward_, eh? I'm one myself, actually. Do you remember the second book and the giant spiders? Believe me, I would have "made a Ron" and run. (Bad wordplay, I know...) But I'm serious, I would have never been a Gryffindor unlike the redhead. Probably, I would've been in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff (or in Slytherin since I do tend to be a tad bit malevolent at times.) But then again, I never even made it into Hogwarts. I still wonder why the letter never came...? (Didn't we all have hopes when we were eleven?) Anyway, although I'm not a witch I am at least a fanfiction writer and that's almost just as good. Therefore, have fun reading...

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**5. Discouraged #2 – Coward**

Valentine's Day. Better yet: Chocolate Day. Of course, full moon had had to have been just yesterday and therefore almost ruined his most favourite day of the year. Not that he ever got anything from anyone or at least, he hadn't in a long time, but that wasn't really the point. The point was the chocolate. _Oh_ yes, chocolate. A day devoted to the most delicious sweet in the world. This day was the only one in every year, if ever so terrible and awful a year might have been, that he could truly enjoy. At least up until now…

Valentine's Day. In other words: Lover's Day. And this year, all he could ever think about was her and it nearly drove him insane. When he had struggled himself to his feet this morning, his body aching, his bones cracking; when he had taken a shower, examining new scratches and scars with growing disgust; when he had eaten breakfast early, careful as every day to avoid her presence and even more careful today because of the obvious occasion; when he had rushed out of Grimmauld's with no particular destination, just because he had heard her stumbling downstairs and panicked. It was only her that he could ever think about.

And by the time he halted in front of a candy shop and curiously eyed a bar of chocolate wrapped in pink paper, the words "Strawberry Flavour" written across it in large bold letters, he began to wonder if there was any chance at all in avoiding her presence, not in person but in his head. Because she seemed to have taken her place there and whatever he tried, wherever he went, how much he fought the idea – she was there and it was hard to convince himself that he didn't want her to be there when really all he wanted was for her to accompany him, if only in his head, and for himself never to forget her, if only in his heart.

By the end of the day, he had spent almost the whole time as far away as possible from where he wondered if she might have been waiting for him. Not that she should have been. Well, honestly, not that he would_ not_ have wanted her to…

When he walked up the stairs to Grimmauld's at nearly twelve in the night, the bar of chocolate wrapped in pink paper secure in his pocket, he considered for a moment if he should give her his present. She would be happy. Probably. Or she would resent him even more and hate him forever. Possibly.

He worried. And then, he panicked again. He decided that the risks were far too high and therefore when ascending the stairs he went straight past her room and ended up in his own instead. He pulled out a book from one of the shelves and carefully placed the chocolate he had bought for her behind it. He sighed deeply.

He supposed that being a Gryffindor had never suited him well. Certainly, he didn't like to think of himself as a coward, but he could make excuses as much as he liked and yet, in the end, he simply was. A coward.

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Only cowards do not review! (Our motto for today!)

I read a Britpick website about two days ago. It was really interesting and I learned a bit more about the differences between American and British English. As a foreigner it's sometimes difficult to distinguish the one from the other. Example: British people say "anyway" whereas in (US) America it's "anyway_s_". Such little things but they always get me. Anyway (note the spelling; I did improve, didn't I?), I would love to write more British and definitely speak more British although the accent is even more difficult than the language itself. (And there are so many different accents, too!) -sigh- But I won't surrender, of course; I mean, Tonks didn't either, right? (i.e. It's worth it!)

Extraordinarily "British" Jord says "Anyway!!" and feels very British all of a sudden; bye bye und tschüß


	6. Disease

**Length:** about 415 words (Alright, boo me for making such short chapters. I can take it... more or less... rather less than more...)

**Disclaimer:** JKR: Inventor/owner of HP and Jord: Ambitioned fanfiction writer - Come on, admit it! It's a good match, right?

**Author's Notes:** "Catch my Disease" is a song by Ben Lee. It's really cute, you should listen to it (on youtube or somewhere...) That said, have fun reading...

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**6. Suffering From Love #2 – Disease**

She had got him chocolate. Worse even, she had got him cheap chocolate, the one he always bought himself. He was used to this kind of chocolate, basically because he couldn't spend more money on better quality, but nevertheless he liked it, even more than other sorts. The fact that she knew this, however, filled him with worry and guilt of the most unpleasant sort. It was all the evidence that he needed to know that she was more in love with him than ever. Unavoidably, truly, heartbreakingly in love with him.

Sometimes it seemed very much like a disease, the more he thought about it. One day it simply had caught them both and they had suffered every since. The worse it got, the worse they felt and by the time he had thought that it might have passed, at least with her, it had come crawling back to him and viciously attacked him unguarded. And as far as diseases went, this was the worst he had ever experienced.

It was exhausting and tiring, that much was for sure.

It was unmistakable, so unbelievably obvious that he wondered why nobody ever noticed.

But the worst of all was that it clearly seemed incurable. There were days when he felt better, almost free of all symptoms. But whenever he chanced a glance at her and caught her staring back, the symptoms were there again and stronger than ever before. Her beautiful sight in his mind, his heart almost drowning in love for her and his body aching with the need to touch her. It was all he could do to not walk over and kiss her between meetings or in the corridors or even over dinner. It was all he could do to keep his disease secret from her and the world.

As for the chocolate which she had bought him, he couldn't get himself to open the bar. Because it would mean accepting her love and he wondered how he could ever do that when he had nothing, not even enough courage to return the gesture, but his own love to offer back. As it seemed, the disease had spread too far yet and made him sick for life. But he couldn't let her suffer from it, too, not forever anyway. And thus, he would have to stay away from her.

In the end, all he could actually return to her was a simple, yet as he very well knew insufficient "Thank you" – and mean it.

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Not reviewing is such a nasty disease! So better get rid off it right now, eh?

For everybody wondering about how in the world Remus knew that the chocolate had come from Tonks: I don't know. You probably expected me to come up with a good explanation here but, to my own great disappointment, I have none. He just knew. (Oh yes, very witty explanation... -.-) I mean, who else should get chocolate for Remus if not Tonks? (Hestia? Emmeline? Not very likely in my opinion...) He probably used Legilimency on her and forced the answer out of her. Ouch, bad idea. He just knew, let's leave it that way...

I do have flaws in my fanfics (as you can see); bye bye und tschüß


	7. Reality

**Length:** about 595 words (as small as a vignette? Well, it fits then, doesn't it?)

**Disclaimer:** HP? You actually think _I_ invented HP? Merlin, that is not very intelligent of you, I must say. Did you even take a look at the name of this site? Well, clearly not, so I better tell you. It says: Fanfiction. _Fan_fiction! Do you notice the difference? Because otherwise it would say: "Fiction of JKR" or something... But really, I don't even know how you could get this confused so much in the first place...

**Author's Notes:** Yes, I do admit that I actually did pick up the "too old" topic and probably just a tad bit of the "too poor" topic for this chapter. But it won't be much, I promise. (Because I'm tired of those as well...) Therefore, have fun reading...

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**7. Pretend #2 – Reality**

He felt old. He always did and he knew perfectly well the reason why. He really _was_ old. A simple fact that he didn't appreciate, yet couldn't change.

Well, certainly, there were means of changing his appearance and he could always try and fool himself and pretend to be someone else, someone far younger and more vivid than him. He could dye his greying hair or gather the last bits of money he had left for this month and buy new clothes that didn't look as old and professor-like as his did. He could see another doctor about his numerous scars and probably get himself some Muggle medicine, because he had found that it did work quite well on his wounds. He could change all that and make himself look younger and better, but in the end there was no mistaking in the fact that the real problem wouldn't be solved this way, not at all. Because it was not his skin in particular that he felt old about or anything on the outside. He felt old in his heart and this was a truth that was not as easy to change as his outlook. He _felt_ old – so he _was_.

He wondered sometimes what she would make of this. He wondered if she could ever understand, ever be able to comprehend the fact that there was nothing, at all, worth fancying about him. Because he was just a complete mess; he had always been nothing more than a complete mess…

But as soon as these musings would enter his mind, he remembered that he didn't have a chance to ask her, not anymore, not now that he had ruined their friendship. Or maybe, he was just too afraid to ask, too afraid of her reaction. Because he could always pretend not to know, pretend that if he actually did ask her, she would without doubt tell him that he really was an utter mess and in no way suitable for her.

But reality always got him in the end.

He knew reality would sink its teeth ever so deeply into his pretending brain, one day, and tell him that, in fact, Nymphadora Tonks did love him; yes, did love him from head to toe and all the way back, greying hair and nasty scars and old skin and permanent poverty and occasional self-loathing and undying self-consciousness and everything else, every last horrible bit about him included. And ironic as it was, he became aware of this the instant she said that she _didn't_ love him. Because it happened to be the very instant she tried to convince herself of this in front of a mirror without knowing that he stood right behind and listened, even if not on purpose. It didn't even occur to him that she might not mean _him_ when she said "I don't love him". But if he was honest, there was no other possibility for he was then reminded of the numerous times he had tried this method of convincing himself in front of the same mirror every other morning. And he also remembered that he had failed just as miserably.

So in the end, reality, cruel as it was, really did sink its teeth ever so deeply into his stubbornly pretending brain – and sucked him dry. Sucked as long as it took for him to realise that all he could ever do was to keep pretending, keep pretending that she didn't love him and he didn't love her in return. For reality, as it seemed, was two things: real, and bloody painful.

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Stop pretending that you do not have the time or ability to review. Face your reality: You are a great reviewer and really, it takes only a second, doesn't it? (Feeding your ego here...) Therefore (please) review!

So I heard this particular song a while ago and thought that I could make a songfic out of it. Actually, I don't even like songfics, not that much, but when I heard this song I couldn't help but wonder if I should write one. So yeah, if the next days or weeks a songfic from Jord (eh, pet-munchkin, that is) pops up out of nowhere - that's mine, and yes, it would be my first and no, you don't have to like it. But I would love if you did... :-)

Happily eating salat and feeling so healthy; bye bye und tschüß


	8. Future Matters

**Length:** about 670 words (longest vignette ever!! Well, at least where I'm concerned...)

**Disclaimer:** Lord of the Rings does not belong to me. ... Huh? That doesn't seem right, does it? I think something got confused there... Oh, I meant HP of course! So, HP does not belong to me. That's Tolkien's, that is. ... What the bloody...? Sorry, I don't think I'm feeling quite well today. Don't know where my head is! (Might have forgot it in the refrigerator and it froze up, so...) Anyway, one last attempt: HP does not belong to me. It's all JKR's. ... ... Got it right this time? Thank Merlin!!

**Author's Notes: **This chapter... well, it's a bit cheesy. At the end. I hope it won't leave you all shuddering at the mere thought of just how cheesy it is. (Because it might; with me it definitely does...) But of course you should read first and then judge. Therefore, as always, I wish you fun with that...

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**8. Giving In #2 – Future Matters**

She looked… ill. Lately. Worn and tired and simply ill, as if she was trying to compete with him. He didn't think that he had ever seen her this way. She had been so full of life, so vivid, so beautiful in her joy, but everything about her seemed to have changed so fast that he couldn't even catch hold of the moment when she had become this lifeless. Her hair was such a pale shade of pink that he had started to fear the moment when it would lose its colour entirely. Her acting was different as well; hollow, joyless and he would ask himself every now and then if she would ever manage to get back to her usual self. Because the matter obviously had got serious for even people had begun to ask her if anything was wrong, concerned about the happy witch that had become so very lifeless in every way. Yet all he ever heard her answer was a feeble "Fine, just the stress" over and over and over again until he himself couldn't listen to it anymore.

It hurt. Because desire had never been so strong.

And worse even, it was getting difficult to hide this desire and his concern for her for he couldn't stop himself to look at her. Throughout meetings, at dinner, all the time. He knew she noticed and probably hated him for it but whenever he told himself not to watch her anymore, he knew at the very same moment that it was a fruitless attempt and that, eventually, he would seek her sight again and again… and again...

And as if this wasn't enough, he couldn't possibly feel sicker or guiltier for being the actual and only cause of her pitiful appearance, robbed of all her beautiful colours. He couldn't possibly hate himself any more than at these moments when their eyes met and she would silently tell him that, yes, he was the one to blame and yes, there was nothing he could do.

Except for the obvious, of course.

Except for the one thing that he had denied her and himself for so long. But he couldn't, simply could not do it, could not give in because if he did it would mean that all of his struggles had been for nothing. It would prove him weak and unstable in his beliefs and would certainly be the wrong decision and leave them suffering, if not for now than one day, surely, in the future. And the future was dangerous, unknown field and it scared him, so much that he had chosen to run.

Until the day he stopped. Until the day he would, in fact, give in.

And then, suddenly, out of nowhere, before he had even realised it himself, the day had come – and he simply had. He had given in. He had proven himself weak and unstable in his beliefs and therefore he had given in. Too strong the need, too great the desire. He had given in...

And while he stood in the empty entrance corridor with her wrapped in his arms, crying but secure and holding on to him so firmly, almost as if for dear life, he couldn't help the thought that all this time his struggles, indeed, had been for nothing. But for a different reason entirely. Because now, in this moment, he finally understood that he had been wrong, so wrong and she had been right in every way. Somewhere along his lonely path he must have failed to realise that they were two people in love with each other – and that was all. There was no point in thinking about the future and all of its dangers because those would come anyway and for sure. Nothing else was certain. But going through these entire things separately would be more difficult than facing them together. Therefore if they held on to each other, much as they did right now – what was there in the future to come that they couldn't face?

OoOoOoOoO

So many things matter in life. Future matters, cheese matters, pill bugs matter, sunscreen matters, little unnecessary gimmicks matter, fanfiction matters, reviews matter. Oh! Speaking of which...

Let's all give in to our inner demons (werewolves?) - and have some fun; bye bye und tschüß


	9. Love

**Length:** about 525 words (I say it'll suffice...)

**Disclaimer:** Actually, the idea of HP came to me _first_ and JKR simply STOLE it from me!! ... Okay,_ maybe_ some of you will be doubting this since she began writing back in 1990 and I was approximately one year old at that time... But you have to consider that I was a really intelligent one-year-old!! ... You still don't believe me, do you? -sigh- Fine, I'll admit it. She didn't steal the idea from me, JKR really thought it up and wrote HP all by herself. Are you happy now?? (And to be honest, I wasn't even an intelligent one-year-old... god, I feel so depressed all of a sudden. -.-)

**Author's Notes:** So this series of vignettes actually ended with the last chapter, but still I wrote an epilogue since I thought that... well, duh, I simply had to! It was required, by myself that is, and I wanted just for once to write something lighter (in this chaptered fic). Therefore now, I wish you fun with reading (because this time, you'll probably really have it!)...

OoOoOoOoO

**9. Promise #2 - Love**

He loved her. Everything about her. Every freckle on her nose that she would show when unmorphed, every strand of her natural brown hair, every little bruise on her knees and arms and every character trait of hers; her usual happiness and cheerfulness, sometimes in the most unsuitable situations, mixed with occasional self-consciousness and silent pondering or even bitter resentment as well as the quite remarkable sense of sarcasm of hers, both lately having been directed at him though he knew that he had definitely deserved those. There was no way of capturing all the little things that he loved about her, but gladly it was still enough to make it obvious that he did, indeed, love _her_.

However most of all, he loved her laugh. The way her mouth curved up, the way she crinkled her nose and at the same time pinched her eyes shut. Not to mention the adorable sound of it; light, carefree, soothing in some way… It was heaven, or possibly another seven steps ahead.

So when she cried out for him to stop, though she could barely utter the words whilst shrieking out loud and giggling and sniggering in the process, he couldn't resist the temptation and simply kept going on, trailing along his preferred paths by placing his lips to the sensitive spot right under her left earlobe and in the curve of her neck and then downwards, downwards…

Well certainly, humour was a wonderful means of expression but it had to stop _somewhere_, preferably at a time when things got a little bit more serious. So soon enough, her laughing was replaced by long sighs and outright moans and begging for more. If it was possible, he loved these even more.

However, there was one thing troubling his mind still. He couldn't help but constantly wonder how he could have resisted her this long, thinking about the last three months and what they could've done together all this time if only he hadn't decided on being such a stubborn stupid git, as she had teasingly put it some ten or twenty minutes ago.

He had no answer to this.

But he knew that he wouldn't, _couldn't_, put up a fight ever again, especially when she was concerned. Because clearly, it wasn't worth it. And clearly, on the other hand, it _was_ worth it to see her laugh with all her heart, or better yet moan in pleasure with all her heart at his caresses. Clearly, it was worth it to promise never to leave her again for she had stated this to be the most brilliant words she had ever heard him say. He supposed that she would agree all along to his musings if he would tell her about them although it was hard to figure out whether she would even be able to answer to anything at all, at least not right now…

But one thing, he was sure, remained clearer than all of his musings altogether: he should've known from the start that resistance to love was an awful stupid thing to even try. And thank Merlin he had come to understand this just in time...

OoOoOoOoO

Did you love the fic? Nah, probably not love it, but did you like it? You shouldn't even try to resist reviewing, because it really is a wonderful thing to do...

For the record: This epilogue-ish chapter is dedicated both to **Bookish Brownie** (_not_ because you dedicated a chapter to me which, of course, I really truly appreciated, but I wanted to dedicate this chapter of mine to you from the beginning anyway - we had the same thought there!) and **Flo M Nimo** who have been reviewing almost all of my fics and were very kind in doing so! Thanks a lot you two!! ;-D (And thanks even more to Bookish Brownie for obvious reasons now. Still can't believe it...)

So finally, this is the end, and finally, I'm done with the whole storyline. Oh... is this a tear in my eye? ... Anyway, thanks to everybody who has been reading both _Vignettes_ and _Vignettes #2_. And of course thanks to everybody who even enjoyed reading. I'm happy now! (And happy Jord is always a good fella!)

At the end, lets have a little game of "Choose your favourite sentence (out of the whole fic)"! Mine is in this chapter (or epilogue or whatever it is) here: _It was heaven, or possibly another seven steps ahead._ I somehow love this sentence, it creates such a beautiful picture in my mind! Do you have a favourite sentence? It's okay if not, but if you actually have, please tell me! ;-D (As you can see, I love choosing favourite sentences out of fics. Authors whose stories I have reviewed so far might tell...)

See these stars above shining so beautiful? Oh, it's Sirius! (_and_ Bellatrix since I do love her despite her lack of sanity... and despite the fact that JKR claims her to have killed two of my favourite characters in HP...-.-); bye bye und tschüß


End file.
